Under the Blue Lights // Jake Kiszka

Take it slow

It takes Cassie a week to text me. It comes on Friday morning, very unexpected, since all my hopes were gone by Thursday. I wake up with the buzz of my phone, five minutes earlier than the time I set my alarm to go off. It says "good morning, beautiful" and it floods my face with heat and pink.

I thought a lot about going out with her after talking to Jake, deciding maybe getting involved with someone else would help me not think about him the way I've been. I know wanting Jake to take me to bed is just my mind trying to trick me, just a result of seeing him naked, devoting his attention to someone that wasn't me, the whole 'sitting on his face' thing being just a way to not be completely left out.

I have always been a bit jealous when it comes to him. Being Jake my one true friend, my only confidant, I always worry he might replace me with someone else. Therefore, craving for his body isn't a true desire, just a selfish need to feel cared for by him. I feel bad lusting after him the way I've been, like I'm lying to him, betraying his trust. But I can't help it. So, I answer Cassie's text with another one equally sweet, and I end up talking to her all day. Just talking to her is already a bit of a distraction from my current thoughts, and it becomes clear that directing my sexual needs towards someone else is the way to go.

She finally asks me out by the end of the day. Jake and I are on the couch then, leaning against each arm of the furniture, our legs messily tangled in the middle. Jake has a red covered book in his hands, completely immersed in the words inked against the yellow-ish pages. I'm sure he isn't as aware of the physical contact of our legs as I am. While he wouldn't take his eyes off of his book, I moved mine away from my phone with each mild brush of his skin on mine, feeling a thrill spreading through my spine every time.

"Guess what," I say, knowing how he hates when I do that. I wait for him to roll his eyes before continuing. "Cassie just asked me out."

"Really?" He closes his book, a finger in between marking the pages. "I didn't even know you were talking."

"We weren't. She texted this morning," I explain. "She says there's a really nice restaurant near her place and that we should go there tomorrow."

"Romantic," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"So, what do you think?" I ask.

"What do you mean 'what do I think'? Do you wanna go out with her?"

"I do," I say, and it is true, but do I want it for the right reasons?

"Then go, have fun. When was the last time you went out on a date?"

"A long time ago, dinosaurs were still waking the earth back then." Jake laughs a little, pinching my calf.

"You know that my duty as your best friend is taking care of you, right? And I wouldn't agree on something if I didn't think it would be good for you. I talked to Cassie and she seemed to actually like you." Jake pinches his chin between words, something he does a lot, that and rubbing his nose. I've been noticing these things a lot lately; I mean, I've always noticed it's something he does, but never how endearing it is. Talking to Jake is always an experience, watching his hands, the way his lips move, how intense his eyes get when it's his turn to listen. It makes my heart race sometimes.

"I just don't really understand why," he continues. "You're a pain in the ass."

"Shut up, douchebag." I say, kicking his side. Jake starts to laugh a little and then we suddenly break into a fit of laughter. It's like everything is back to normal, even if just for a fleeting moment, but when the laughter ceases, tension falls upon us. Or maybe it's just my imagination, it's been hard to tell lately.

I've always heard girls talking about how mysterious Jake is, how hard it is to read him. I've always thought that was bullshit. Jake was never a mystery to me, I've always known what he was thinking, how he was feeling, I could almost predict his moves. But now it's like I have no clue. I never know what his looks mean and I keep wondering if he wants me like I want him.